


Fever

by AmberBrown



Series: Earning Their Keep [10]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, F/M, Fever, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-06 18:47:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13417383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberBrown/pseuds/AmberBrown
Summary: D'Artagnan is ill. Aramis looks after him. To keep his lover entertained Aramis tells him about his past lovers. But there is something d'Artagnan needs to talk about as well.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you have not read the previous stories all you need to know if that Aramis and d'Artagnan are in an established relationship. They have both been sexually assaulted/raped in the past.

Aramis stretched as he opened his eyes, he turned on his side towards the sleeping man lying next to him. D’Artagnan did not stir as Aramis shifted to lie behind his lover, molding his body around the still sleeping man. 

D’Artagnan felt warm against Aramis. The marksman frowned, he lay the back of his hand against the side of his lovers face. D’Artagnan was too warm, he was feverish. Aramis shifted backward and gently turned the other man to lie on his back. D’Artagnan did not wake. 

‘Hey, d'Artagnan,’ said Aramis quietly.

The other man still did not move. 

Aramis propped himself up on one elbow, his concern for his lover growing. He looked his lover over, the man was covered in a sheen of sweat and his face was flushed.

Aramis gently shook d’Artagnan’s shoulder, ‘wake up for me.’

After a bit more cajoling from the marksman, d’Artagnan opened his eyes, then screwed them shut and raised his hand to shield them from the morning light streaming in through the window. 

‘I’ll shut the curtain,’ said Aramis as he scrambled off the bed and crossed the small room. After shutting out most of the light Aramis returned to perch on the side of the bed beside his lover.

‘Sorry,’ said d’Artagnan with a croaky voice.

‘Shh…’ replied Aramis resting his hand on the younger man’s chest, ‘you, my friend, are not well. How long have you been feeling ill for?’

‘Don’t know, felt alright last night, bit tired, nothing else...my head hurts.’

‘I know,’ said Aramis sympathetically, ‘I’ll have to go to the garrison and let Treville know, but I will be back as quick as I can.’

Aramis picked up a cup of water from the side table, he cupped his hand behind d’Artagnan’s head and held the water to his lips. 

‘Drink this before I go.’

Obediently, d’Artagnan sipped the liquid, his face a picture of pain each time he swallowed. Aramis put the cup down and stroked his lover’s sweat streaked hair for a few seconds. He sighed, he knew d’Artagnan would become worse before he started to recover, if he recovered. There had been several people die in the vicinity from the same feverish illness in the previous few weeks. Most had survived but had been quite poorly as their bodies fought off the illness.

‘Sleep whilst I am gone...do not move from the bed.’

D’Artagnan managed a small nod before turning on his side away from Aramis. 

MMMM

As Aramis walked through the gates of the garrison he spotted Treville watching a few of the cadets practising their sparring. The Captain greeted him as he approached. 

Aramis got straight to the point, ‘d’Artagnan has a fever, it’s going to take him a few days to get over it...I think it’s the same fever that had been picking off the poor in the area.’

Treville regarded Aramis for a few seconds before saying, ‘I see...where is d’Artagnan now? I know he’s not in his room here.’

Aramis shifted slightly, he knew that Treville had no issue with the relationship he had with d’Artagnan, but he still found it awkward to speak about it with his superior. 

‘He’s at my rooms, it came on quite quickly, overnight, I don’t want to move him if I don’t have to.’

‘And I don’t want a sick man in my garrison,’ said Treville, not unkindly, ‘are you symptomatic?’

‘No sir,’ said Aramis shaking his head.

‘Take care of him, if it gets too much, I’ll arrange for some help for you, the fewer people exposed to this the better.’

Aramis nodded, ‘thank you sir. Will you let Athos and Porthos know when they return?’

‘Of course, now go back to d’Artagnan and wish him well from me.’

Aramis walked back to his rooms, stopping at the local tavern to order food to be brought to his rooms later in the day. He suspected he would not have time to leave as d’Artagnan worked through his fever. Aramis had a busy few hours ahead of him. And he intended to pay his lover his full attention. 

MMMM

Aramis hurried back to his rooms. He already thought he had left his lover alone for too long. 

As he pushed the door closed and turned the key he called out to d’Artagnan quietly. When he got no response he crossed to the bedroom door and peered in. 

D’Artagnan had not moved, he was still lying on his side. The slow rise and fall of his chest the only movement. 

Satisfied that his lover was in no great need for his assistance Aramis pulled off his weapons belts, and his doublet and boots. He gathered water and some cloths before going into the bedroom. He lay the water down on the side table before pulling a chair closer to sit at d’Artagnan’s side.

Aramis brushed the sweat-dampened hair from his lovers face. He frowned when he realised how warm the man was. But, he thought, perhaps his lover was fighting off the fever and would recover quicker.

D’Artagnan stirred and turned to lie on his back. He opened his eyes and managed to focus on Aramis.

‘Hello,’ said Aramis with a smile, ‘I'm afraid you’re stuck with me looking after you. Treville doesn't want you back at the garrison until you’re better.’

The younger man managed a smile, ‘thank you,’ he said quietly.

Aramis soaked and wrung out a cloth before wiping the sweat from his lover’s face and neck. He could tell d’Artagnan was falling asleep again.

‘Can you drink a bit more?’

D’Artagnan slowly opened his eyes again and nodded obediently. Aramis lifted his lovers head and held the glass to his lips. D’Artagnan drank a little water, his eyelids drooping as he did so.

Aramis watched as his lover fell asleep again with a sigh. 

The young man was soaked in sweat, Aramis stripped him as gently as he could, using dampened cloths to cool his skin. The sleeping Musketeer did not wake up despite the attention he was receiving.

Aramis quickly slipped into a routine of attempting to keep his lover cool and rousing him to make him drink. 

A quiet knock at the door signalled the arrival of the food he had ordered.

‘How is he?’ asked the tavern keeper who was fond of all the Musketeers.

‘He’ll be suffering for a while yet,’ replied the marksman as he took the two pots from the man, ‘what do I owe you?’

‘Nothing...just tell him to get better.’

Aramis smiled at the generosity, ‘thank you. I will pass on the message.’

‘And make sure you look after yourself,’ the man said with a stern look, ‘you'll be no good to him if you make yourself ill.’

‘I will do my best,’ replied Aramis with another smile.

MMMM

Aramis quickly ate his own food as he kept a watchful eye on his sleeping lover. He watched as the young man reacted to something, a fevered dream. D’Artagnan moaned slightly and flicked his hand at some unseen foe. The dream only lasted a few seconds but had left the still sleeping man panting, he mumbled something incoherently before settling again.

Aramis wondered what had been the cause of the dream, a memory of a skirmish or battle he had taken part in? Or something darker? Perhaps a memory of the attack he had endured? The violent rape his lover, only his friend at the time, had suffered still played on the young man’s mind from time to time. It was something they had both come to accept. Aramis’ own rapes frequently resurfaced as nightmares, he had every sympathy for his lover.

D’Artagnan stirred, waking more fully than he had for a few hours. Aramis guessed the smell of the broth he had left by the fire had drawn the musketeer from his slumber.

‘Hungry?’ asked Aramis.

D’Artagnan nodded and tried to sit up.

‘Let me help you,’ said the marksman as he leaned forward from his chair.

He eased the ill man up to sit. D'Artagnan was panting from the effort when they had finished.

‘Thank you,’ he said, his voice croaky.

Aramis retrieved a cup of broth, leaving it on the small table by the bed as he sat on the bed with his lover, pulling d’Artagnan to lean on him slightly. He picked up the cup and helped the weakened man to drink.

D’Artagnan clearly benefited from the warm liquid. When he spoke again his voice was stronger.

‘Talk to me.’

Aramis furrowed his brow, ‘about what?’

D’Artagnan thought for a moment then said with a smile, ‘you previous lovers...from before me.’

Aramis could not hide his surprise at the request.

‘You've never asked before. Are you taking advantage? Using my worry as an excuse?’

D’Artagnan managed to look up at Aramis and nodded. He leaned into Aramis who shook his head with a smile.

‘Very manipulative, my friend...let me think...I am not telling you about anyone you are likely to meet...or already know...oh yes there are a couple.’

Aramis enjoyed seeing the young man trying to work out who he was talking about.

‘I will tell you about the time, early in my soldiering days, when I was taken to the bed of a Lord in England. I had delivered a message but could not embark on the journey home for several days due to bad weather…’ Aramis paused making sure he had his lover’s full attention, ‘and I should mention that the Lord was not alone in paying me attention...his wife was also there...at the same time.’

D’Artagnan was paying rapt attention.

MMMM

_He had been picked due to being the only man who spoke near fluent English. But it was still a daunting prospect for the young soldier. Aramis watched as the coast of England came into view. It was a simple mission. The delivery of messages for a Lord who lived near the coast. He was to wait for a reply and return._

_This was his first visit to England. He knew he stood out as a foreigner but did his best to ignore the stares and comments from people who thought he did not understand their words._

_Rough weather had meant he was stranded and would be for a few days. The Lord, a handsome man of about forty had invited Aramis to stay as his guest. The Lady of the house also seemed very welcoming. She was younger than her husband but still at least ten years older than Aramis._

_Aramis found them both attractive and had to be careful not to draw attention to himself by staring at them. His youth and inexperience meant he was yet to learn the art of subtlety._

_He was the only person staying with the couple and after dinner, on the first night the three settled in a cosy sitting room, the servants had been dismissed. Aramis could sense something was going to happen. He felt a little apprehensive._

_The Lord was direct, ‘have you been fucked by a man before?’_

_Aramis must have given them the answer in his reaction. At that point he had a little experience with men, so the concept was not entirely new to him. The Lady smiled, she rose from her seat and perched on the chaise longue next to Aramis who did not know where to look. He could feel his face redden at the attention she was giving him. He glanced across to the Lord who was watching appreciatively._

_The Lady leaned into him, stroking her smooth fingers across his cheek and lips. Her other hand was slowly sliding up his thigh. Aramis gasped as her hand brushed over his groin and the delicate fingers began to undo his breeches._

_He looked over at the Lord again. The older man was watching with feigned indifference, but the bulge in his own breeches told Aramis the Lord was very interested in the proceedings._

_The Lady had subtlety moved into Aramis who found himself snaking his arms around her as she lifted her mouth to his. She kissed with passion, after a moments hesitation, Aramis kissed her back._

_Despite his early worry, it was clear the Lord and Lady were equal participants in their seduction of him. And Aramis was happy to be seduced._

_After a few more moments, the Lady leaned back and glanced at her husband who rose from the chair he had been reclining on. He moved to the door and opened it. The Lady pulled Aramis up to stand, taking his hand and leading him to the door where the Lord was stood watching them. As they drew level with him he reached up and cupped Aramis cheek, leaning in and kissing him full on the lips, the young soldier was struggling to keep up with what was happening. But he was increasingly enjoying it._

_Aramis had enjoyed a few liaisons with men in the past so was not totally inexperienced but this was the first time he had been taken to the bed of a couple and a couple who were in a different social class to him. He had initially felt a little intimidated but after the Lord had released him from their kiss he knew he did not have to worry about the social graces any longer. But he would allow the couple to take the lead, he was their guest after all._

_The room they entered was a lavishly furnished bedroom with a large four-poster bed. The Lady led Aramis to the bed, she pushed him to sit on the edge, before she released his hand she brought it up to rest on the front of her bodice. Aramis looked her in the eyes for a few seconds, she smiled and nodded._

_He started to undo the ties, his fingers shaking slightly as he worked. The Lord approached them from behind. He reached around Aramis and began to undo his doublet as he nuzzled at the soldier’s neck._

_Aramis continued to undress the Lady as the Lord continued to undress him. He felt a little exposed with the Lord still fully clothed as the Lady pushed him down onto the bed and lay next to him kissing and caressing his bare skin. The Lord moved to the bottom of the bed and continued to watch them both._

_The Lady worked her way down Aramis’ body until she reached his hard cock, she trailed her soft fingers along it for a few seconds before a quick glance up at him. Aramis was breathing quite quickly staring up. He knew what she was about to do, but he had never done that with an audience._

_He and some of the other young soldiers had paid for a whore to perform the act once, but they had gone into her boudoir one at a time. Aramis was lying back on a sumptuous bed as the Lady of the house teased the tip of his cock with her tongue and her husband watched. For some reason the audience did not put him off, it enhanced the experience._

_The woman was good, her ministrations had him panting as she brought him to his peak. She hummed in satisfaction at the reactions she was getting from him. The Lord had perched himself on the end of the bed, leaning back against the post, he had undone his breeches and was rubbing his own cock as he watched his wife with Aramis._

_Aramis came with a moan of pleasure. As he lay on the bed, spent, he wondered what was going to happen next. He looked down at the Lord and Lady who were now kissing, the Lord had his fingers entwined in his wife’s hair. When they broke off, they both looked at Aramis, with hunger. He knew more was to come._

_MMMM_

_The Lady climbed off the bed and walked to a side table and picked up a bottle of oil. The Lord was busy stripping off, Aramis watched as his lythe body was revealed. The Lady climbed back onto the bed, she looked at Aramis expectantly. Aramis did not understand what her intention was._

_She leaned forward over him, her loose hair brushing over his chest, she said quietly into his ear, ‘did you think he would prepare you? My dear, we share everything...relax, he tells me I’m really good at this.’_

_She arched her eyebrow slightly as she spoke, Aramis did not quite know how to react. He allowed her to move him into position and concentrated on relaxing as she pushed her delicate oiled finger into him. As she worked the Lord slid onto the bed and lay beside the young soldier, trailing his hand lazily over his chest, before hooking his fingers around Aramis’ face and turning him. The Lord leaned in to kiss him. Aramis was overwhelmed with feelings, the Lord kissing him, the Lady preparing him with a delicacy and accuracy he had not experience before._

_The Lady hooked the three fingers she had in him and caused him to gasp and arch his back, his cock stirring back to life at the action._

_The Lord released him and moved to his wife’s side, they kissed again, as she withdrew her fingers and he positioned himself ready to take the soldier who had been so carefully prepared for him._

_The Lady moved to lie beside Aramis caressing him and kissing his neck and chest. The Lord pushed into him slowly, he fucked firmly but not aggressively. As the thrusts became uneven the Lady leaned over and kissed Aramis again._

_The Lord came with a cry, panting. He withdrew from the young man and lay beside him, with a satisfied sigh. ___

__MMMM_ _

__‘But what about the Lady?’ asked d’Artagnan._ _

__‘I was coming to that,’ replied Aramis, as he stroked the young man’s hair, ‘they knew what they were doing. With both myself and the Lord spent, we could take our time with her. Even at that age, it took a few minutes for me to be ready for another go.’_ _

__D’Artagnan huffed slightly before coughing a couple of times. Once he had settled again Aramis continued._ _

__‘We touched her and kissed her for some time before the Lord indicated that I should have sex with her, whilst he watched.’_ _

__‘He watched you sleep with his wife?’_ _

__‘Well she had just watched him fuck me,’ said Aramis pragmatically._ _

__‘Was she better?’_ _

__‘Better?’_ _

__‘Than me?’_ _

__‘Now, I am not going to answer that, this is why I didn’t want to talk about my previous partners…’_ _

__D’Artagnan shifted so that he could look at his lover, ‘I want to know…’_ _

__Aramis rolled his eyes, ‘you really are devious, aren’t you? Lying there, ill, getting me to do what you want...she was different, he was different. I will admit that yes, she was the best woman I have had take the lead in bed. But it is very different with a woman to a man...as you know.’_ _

__D’Artagnan coughed again._ _

__‘Drink some water, and then try to sleep again, you’ve been awake for a while now,’ said Aramis, trying to hide the worry from his voice, knowing that he was failing._ _

__The young man was sweating again, the brief respite in his fever was over. Aramis helped him to drink and then lay down. D’Artagnan fell into a fitful sleep as Aramis watched._ _


	2. Chapter 2

The next two days were taxing for Aramis, he tended to his sick lover constantly. The tavern keeper continued to bring him food once a day and each time reminded the marksman to take a break. He offered to sit with d’Artagnan but the offer was refused. Aramis did not want to risk passing on the fever to anyone else. He was sure if he was going to get it he would have done by that stage.

But he was tired. D’Artagnan had slept most of the time as his fever continued. Occasional dreams peppered their day. Aramis could not work out what the young man was dreaming about and d’Artagnan did not remember them when he awoke.

When he was lucid d’Artagnan asked more about the English Lord and Lady, Aramis humoured his lover with tales of what they got up to.

Aramis had managed a couple of hours of sleep propped up uncomfortably on the hard wooden chair by the bed. But he did not feel refreshed. He knew that if the tavern keeper had not brought him food he would not have eaten, such was his worry for his lovers well being. 

If the other victims of the fever were anything to go by, d’Artagnan would start to recover on the third day. Aramis was glad and worried at the same time. If d’Artagnan did not start to recover he would probably die. That was how it had played out for the other victims. 

They had almost lost each other before, but then there had been a human foe to battle, something tangible that they could get hold of. This was not an enemy that Aramis could run through with a sword or shoot with his gun. All he could do was keep his lover cool and wait.

The waiting was at times frustrating and at times tedious. He had watched as his lover had sweated, he had watched as he had dreamt and become distressed. And there did not seem to be any more that Aramis could do. 

He hated it. He hated it, because the waiting meant that he was thinking about the worst case scenario. He was thinking about d’Artagnan dying. Of losing his lover. His friend. His brother. 

And Aramis did not want that to happen. 

MMMM

Athos was looking forward to sleeping in his own bed. Three nights away, including one camping out had left him ready for a good night's sleep. Porthos looked of a similar disposition. They had ridden hard to get the return message back to the Palace. Now, back at the garrison, they were pleased to hand their horses over to the care of the stable boys.

Porthos was already crossing to the table and pouring himself a cup of water, he swung his leg over the bench and sat down heavily. Athos poured a cup for himself and glanced around the yard. Several Musketeer and a few cadets were sparring or working on drills. 

‘How was the trip,’ asked Treville, with a smile, as he descended the steps to join them.

‘Dusty,’ said Porthos, ‘I don’t think it’s rained down there for weeks.

‘Where are Aramis and d’Artagnan?’ asked Athos, still looking around the yard for his brothers.

Treville’s smile faded from his face, ‘d’Artagnan has caught that fever that’s going around. Aramis is looking after him. They’re at Aramis’ rooms. From what Aramis said it came on suddenly overnight. I told him to keep the lad there, I didn’t want them bringing it to the garrison.’

‘When was this?’ asked Porthos with concern.

‘This will be the third day, it’s why they weren’t here when you left.’

‘Have you seen them since then?’ 

‘No. The tavern keeper in Aramis’ local, has been taking them food, he told me yesterday that he is a little concerned that Aramis is not looking after himself. Said he looked tired.’

‘I suppose that is not surprising. If the other fevers are anything to go by, he has probably been kept busy,’ said Athos.

‘I don’t need either of you for the next couple of days, perhaps you could check on them both, make Aramis rest if needs be. I don’t need him getting ill as well. D’Artagnan shouldn’t be infectious anymore, so you should be safe.’

Both men nodded and immediately undertook their new assignment. 

MMMM

Aramis had been stoking the fire when d’Artagnan had the next nightmare. Thinking it would be like the others, a short interruption to the young man's already restless sleep Aramis wandered back to his bedroom.

D’Artagnan was again trying to push an unseen enemy away. The blankets on the bed were sliding off as d’Artagnan thrashed about. The dream was clearly worse than the previous ones.

Aramis managed to sit on the edge of the bed. He tried to catch d’Artagnan’s flailing arms but the man was too panicked in his fevered sleep.

‘Calm down,’ said Aramis, ‘d’Artagnan, you're safe here. No one will hurt you here.’

‘Get off me...please...no...Aramis? Please come back Aramis. Help me…’

Aramis tried to work out what the fevered man was reliving in his nightmare. He guessed that he was involved somehow. He appeared to have abandoned his lover in the dream.

‘D’Artagnan, I'm here.’

‘No...why can't I move...please stop...Aramis?’

Aramis leaned forwards as d’Artagnan again pushed at the enemy that haunted him. D'Artagnan’s flailing hand knocked his face. Aramis tried to grab the hand but missed, his lover was becoming quite hysterical in his sleep. His breathing was fast, his movements erratic.

Worried that d’Artagnan might hurt himself, Aramis stood and tried to grab his lover to pin him to the bed. He managed to grab d’Artagnan’s right hand.

The younger man’s eyes flew open, he stared at Aramis for a second before crying out in terror and pushing the marksman backwards with a strength Aramis did not think the ill man capable of.

He stumbled back, his foot slipping on the fallen blanket. Unable to stop his momentum, Aramis fell.

A blow to the side of his head and his name being called in fear were the last things he remembered.

MMMM

Porthos climbed the stairs toward Aramis’ rooms. They had not wasted any time walking to their friends home. Both men were worried. The fever had taken the lives of several people in the vicinity, and although they knew d’Artagnan to be a strong, fit young man the fever did not discriminate between the frail and the healthy.

He knocked, lightly on the door. They waited a few moments, but could not hear any movement within. Porthos knocked a little harder, he glanced at Athos who raised an eyebrow. Porthos tried the door handle, the door was locked.

‘Break it, I will pay the landlady what she wants for a replacement lock,’ said Athos, not hiding his worry. It was unlikely that Aramis had left d’Artagnan alone, and the knocking should have woken their friend if he had fallen asleep. Perhaps Aramis had the fever as well?

Porthos put his shoulder to the door and forced it open. He walked in, looking around the small sitting room. The fire was lit, a poker lying on the floor in front of it. Broth in a pot was set by the fire keeping warm. There was no sign of either of their friends. 

Athos had walked through to the bedroom, he stood by the door, ‘in here...I am not sure what has happened.’

Curious and concerned, Porthos crossed to join Athos, who was venturing further into the room. It took him a few seconds to take in the scene.

D’Artagnan, who was either unconscious or asleep, was lying twisted across the bed, the bedclothes tangled across his body and spilling onto the floor. The young man was covered in sweat, his breathing slightly laboured, his right hand was reaching out across the bed.

Aramis was lying slumped on the floor, obviously unconscious. The marksman had a gash across his temple, which was sluggishly bleeding, the accompanying bruise was already blossoming across his temple and cheek. 

Athos had walked around the bed and was pulling d’Artagnan over to lie on his back, he felt the young man’s skin.

‘He is still feverish,’ Athos said quite unnecessarily. 

Porthos had crouched beside the still form of Aramis, his friend was breathing steadily but showing no signs of waking. 

‘I’m guessing, d’Artagnan had a fit or a dream or something,’ said Porthos looked across to Athos, ‘Aramis must have been trying to rouse him and slipped on the blankets, see that one is still tangled round ‘is ankle.’

Athos nodded his agreement at the musketeer’s assessment, ‘let’s get them tidied up, will that need stitches?’

Porthos looked at the gash on Aramis’ head, ‘I don’t think so, I’ll clean it up and dress it...the forced sleep will probably do ‘im some good.’

MMMM

Using rags dampened with cool water Athos wiped away the sweat from d’Artagnan’s skin, the young man moaned slightly and tried to move away.

‘Wake up, d’Artagnan,’ Athos said quietly.

D’Artagnan opened his eyes slowly, he looked confused. Athos realised the younger man was wondering where Aramis was.

‘I sent him out for some air,’ he lied, not wanting d’Artagnan to worry, ‘you have had him, and us, quite worried... but I believe you are over the worst of it now.’

D’Artagnan blinked a few times, he still looked unfocused, before saying, ‘I thought he’d left me, where did he go?’

Athos glanced across at Porthos who shrugged his shoulders, the ill man was not making sense.

‘Why wasn’t he there? They were going to hurt me.’

‘D’Artagnan what are you talking about?’ asked Athos trying to get the young man to focus for a few seconds, but he could tell d’Artagnan was already slipping back to sleep.

‘Fabien,’ said d’Artagnan, his breathing quickening, ‘I couldn’t move...I was too scared...I was…’

D’Artagnan’s eyes closed again and after a few more uneven, slightly laboured breaths, he settled again. 

Porthos was looking off into the distance, ‘Fabien...wasn’t that one of the men at that Comte’s house, one of the ones who attacked d’Artagnan? He thought they were going to rape him.’

Athos nodded, remembering how haunted the young man had been when he related what had happened to him on the assignment. 

‘I knew it was a close thing, that Aramis got to d’Artagnan just in time, but I did not realise it was still affecting him.’

Porthos looked down at Aramis, ‘I think we were more concerned with ‘im at the time, he was injured and was having problems remembering what happened. Perhaps we should ‘ave looked out for d’Artagnan a bit more.’

Athos agreed with a nod. He went back to cleaning the young man up. When he had finished he covered him with a blanket.

Porthos had laid Aramis on the floor, his head propped up on a pillow, a blanket thrown over him. Athos helped him to dress the wound to his head.

‘Should we tell him?’

‘What?’

‘That d’Artagnan is having trouble dealing with the attack on him.’

‘Yes,’ said Porthos, ‘he wouldn’t like not knowing about that. D'artagnan has probably been hiding it from him.’

‘I would not like to betray d’Artagnan’s trust in us. He is ill and did not intend us to know he had an issue. If he has not spoken Aramis he might not wish him to know.’

Porthos sighed, ‘Athos, how many times have one or the other of us kept something from the rest? You’ve done it, he’s done it,’ Porthos nodded towards Aramis, ‘and it never ends well, honesty is for the best...we tell ‘im.’

Athos nodded, realising his friend was correct.

MMMM

Porthos had remained sat on the floor by his unconscious friend. Athos had moved to sit on the bed by d’Artagnan. Aramis’ eyes fluttered open, he moaned, as he tried to sit up. Porthos put a restraining hand on his chest.

‘Stay there, my friend, you must be concussed, if you move to quick you’re gonna pass out again.’

‘D’Artagnan?’ asked Aramis.

‘Is fast asleep on the bed, his fever broke a while ago. He’s gonna be fine.’

Aramis blinked a few times, ‘he was having a nightmare, he pushed me over, it was an accident.’

‘We gathered that,’ said Athos from his place on the bed, next to the sleeping musketeer.

‘There’s somethin’ you should know,’ began Porthos.

‘That d’Artagnan is struggling with the attack by Fabien and Noyer?’ asked Aramis, ‘I worked it out...just before I fell...he was talking in his sleep, dreaming…’

‘He did the same with us a little while ago. I think you need to talk to him. I do not want him having problems with this. You managed to get over your own issues by talking them through with him, I think he needs to do the same.’

Aramis managed a smile, ‘ever the diplomat Athos. When he is well again I will make him talk about it.’

MMMM

When Athos and Porthos were satisfied that Aramis was capable of watching over d’Artagnan without keeling over from either the concussion or exhaustion, they agreed to leave for a while. Porthos intended to return later in the day to bring food and Athos promised to visit them the following morning. 

Aramis had moved to sit on the bed next to his recovering lover. It had become clear during the course of the day that d’Artagnan was getting better, his fever had broken and he was no longer suffering from fitful dreams. Aramis felt confident that the young musketeer would wake up feeling far better than the previous time. 

As he watched his sleeping lover Aramis thought about how he would broach the subject of his dreams. The man had clearly been suffering in silence, which annoyed Aramis. They had agreed to talk to each other if memories of the assaults on them both were causing them problems. He had found it cathartic to talk, once he had overcome the initial awkwardness of it. Speaking, out loud, about how he felt seemed to make the issues diminish and become manageable. D’Artagnan had talked, but he clearly had left something out, something had been kept back, remained a secret. Aramis wondered what it could be.

D’Artagnan took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes. Aramis could not help a smile when he saw that his lover was focused and not confused, unlike the previous time he had opened his eyes. 

When his lover turned to look up at him his expression instantly turned to one of concern.

Aramis chuckled, ‘hello, I’m fine...well, not completely, but you don’t need to worry.’

‘Your head?’

‘Your fault.’

D’Artagnan furrowed his brow, ‘how?’

‘Do you want to sit up? You should drink some water.’

D’Artagnan allowed Aramis to help him up. After Aramis had helped the younger man to drink some water d’Artagnan reached up to touch the side of Aramis’ face gently.

‘How is that my fault?’

‘You don’t remember?’

D’Artagnan shook his head.

‘You were dreaming, I was worried you would hurt yourself, so I tried to pin you down...which was probably a mistake. You pushed me backwards, I fell, hit my head, knocked myself out.’

D’Artagnan looked mortified. Aramis smiled again.

‘You didn’t mean to hurt me,’ he said, trying to placate his lover, ‘Athos and Porthos arrived, and were able to clean me up, and sort us both out.’

D’Artagnan looked away, ‘what was I dreaming about?’

Aramis realised the younger man already knew.

‘You were dreaming about Fabien attacking you...when I was still unconscious you came around briefly, but were confused...you told Athos and Pothos that I had abandoned you, when you were being attacked.’

‘I...no...Aramis…’

‘Hey,’ said Aramis calmly, ‘it’s OK. It was a dream. I know you don’t think that I abandoned you...but somewhere in that head of yours, on some level, you still haven’t dealt with the attack.’

D’Artagnan looked away again, before saying quietly, ‘sorry.’

‘Why are you sorry?’ said Aramis as he gently used two fingers to turn the man to face him, ‘I know how difficult it is to talk about it. It took me a long time to be able to talk to you about the attack on me. But, if you knew you still had issues you could have told me...told me that you would talk, but just not yet?’

‘Sorry, I’ve had a few dreams where you didn’t get there in time, where you didn’t save me. At the time, I really thought they were going to force themselves on me...the thing I’ve not really talked about is...that I just froze and stopped fighting them off. They weren’t even holding me down when you got there...I was going to let it happen…’

‘D’Artagnan,’ said Aramis firmly, ‘you are not to blame for their behaviour. They were attacking you, you were frightened. It’s not the same as a skirmish where both sides are armed, I would not expect you to freeze then. You’re used to gunfights and sword fights. Those men had one thing in mind. You have nothing to feel ashamed of.’

D’Artagnan nodded, Aramis was not convinced his lover agreed, but he did not want to push the issue.

‘Promise me that you will talk to me about this again, when you are better?’

D’Artagnan nodded again with more conviction. Satisfied that his lover was on the road to recovery Aramis relaxed a little.

‘There is some broth, could you manage some?’

D’Artagnan nodded, it was clear he was happy to move on from the subject for the time being. 

After retrieving the warm broth Aramis retook his place next to his lover, pleased that d’Artagnan did not need his held to hold the cup. 

‘Did you ever see that Lord and Lady again?’

Aramis sighed, amused at d’Artagnan’s choice of subject matter to move onto.

‘I wish I hadn’t told you about them, I’d hoped you would forget.’

D’Artagnan managed a small grin.

‘The Lady writes to me occasionally. Her husband died a couple of years ago,’ said Aramis as he looked off into the distance.

‘Why does she keep in contact? You’re not likely to see her again.’

It was Aramis’ turn to grin, ‘she writes to me to tell me about her son, the current Lord, he’s not quite of age yet, so the Lady is guiding him.’

D’Artagnan looked confused for a few seconds before his eyes widened, ‘how old is her son?’

Aramis’ grin broadened, ‘why do you ask?’

‘You know why. I’m not stupid. He’s your son, isn’t he? That’s why she writes to you,’ d’Artagnan paused for a few seconds, ‘they used you. I bet he couldn’t get his wife pregnant...and they needed an heir, so they seduced the first, fit young man they were unlikely to see again…’

‘I honestly cannot imagine what you mean,’ said Aramis with a wink, ‘and it was the best week of being seduced I’ve ever had. I learnt a lot from them both.’

D’Artagnan shook his head and yawned. Aramis took the cup from him and helped him to lie back down, stretching out next to him, resting his hand on his lover’s chest. D’Artagnan folded his own hand around Aramis’.

‘You don’t feel as hot as you were...please don’t get ill again.’

‘I’ll try,’ replied the sleepy musketeer as he closed his eyes. 

Aramis watched his lover for a few minutes, before fatigue caught up with him as well. 

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.   
> I know nothing about caring for people with a fever, so this was based on five minutes of research on the internet and from reading other fanfics. Please forgive any inaccuracies.


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